Seeing with the Heart
Disclaimers: not mine for long notes see Pro.
Feedback and constructive comments welcome. Flames will be treated accordingly.
Note: I hope everyone is enjoying this story.
Note 2: I'm learning as I go how to use the posting system so I'll take help there, too. Example, this story deals with a great many catigories but I could only choose 2.
Chapter one: January 2nd 1997 evening
The rowdy group of Gryffindors sat aboard the Hogwarts Express, laughing and carrying on with their usual fervor. Only one of them sat in silence, but this one usually was quiet and, from what he had noticed, those around him rarely minded. Not sharing in the exuberance that all but shimmered in the air around him, Neville Longbottom smiled sadly, as those around him chatted about their holidays and how wonderful they had been.
It seemed that no one that had left Hogwarts for Christmas wanted to return. Even Harry had gone home with the Weasleys. With Voldimort held in check, it was thought that Harry deserved and could finally have a loving Christmas surrounded by friends and the family of his heart.
Neville blinked back tears. He took the slow measured breaths that were helping him make it through the days. Gran was gone. "Gran's gone." He mouthed the words quietly to himself, hoping that saying them would make it more real, but it didn't. Neville was truly alone and he couldn't quite grasp the fact. He was almost of age but what would he do until then?
He wasn't even sure if he had enough money to pay his tuition at Hogwarts next year. He would be ok through June, as tuition was paid in full at the beginning of each school year. Of course, that might not even be a problem considering... He cut off that chain of thought and tried to relax.
"Focus on the moment, child." That kind voice murmured in a tiny corner of his mind.
"Neville? Neville!"
"What." He looked up and saw Ron smiling down at him.
"Are you ok? We've been calling you for the last couple of minutes."
Was he ok? He felt a wave of grief swamp him. No, he thought to himself, he was not ok. He had no one left and nowhere to go when summer holidays came around.
He didn't even have real friends. It always felt to him that he was just being tolerated. There was his home, but he was unsure if he would be able to maintain its upkeep. Now they were on their way back to school and he would have to get through the rest of the year. Focus on the moment.
He looked at Ron and saw the concern, but couldn't bring himself to open up. "Yes, I'm fine," but he stared around him, unsure of what his next action should be, hoping Ron would drop it.
"Train's stopped."
"Yes, of course." Yet he didn't move until Hermione's hand gently took his and dragged him to his feet.
"I should change into my school robes. I'll catch up with you, ok?"
"Sure." He was so distracted that he didn't see the concerned looks the others exchanged.
He waited until they left and slowly sank back into the seat. He relaxed using the calming exercises he'd learned over the past summer. He braced himself for what might happen.
Moments later, he was unsurprised to hear a sneering voice murmur, "Longbottom, no Mudblood to protect you?"
"Piss off, Malfoy!" He reached for his wand, even though he was certain he would not make it in time. Surprisingly enough, his hand had grasped his wand and had it halfway pointing at the blonde - his own wand, finally earned - before Malfoy again spoke.
The voice was filled with soft laughter. "I think not. Crucio!"
Great Hall, same time
"It should be about time, Severus."
"This is insanity, Albus."
"This is war, Severus."
"Merlin knows that boy is a menace, but allowing that..." He trailed off, anger running through him.
"Frank and Alice would-"
The unusually brisk tones of Albus Dumbledore cut him off. "They would have raised him differently and that boy would have volunteered."
"To be hit with the same curse that placed his parents in the ward for the Incurable at St. Mungo's? What is the point?"
Though the voice was flat, Dumbledore heard the anger simmering beneath the surface. Leaning forward, and meeting the dark eyes with his own, the older man spoke.
"Well now, Severus, if things had been different, they wouldn't be in St. Mungos. The point, dear boy, is the removal of a dangerous playing piece."
He continued to hold the black eyes for a moment, understanding that sometimes the only way to get Severus to react was to goad him. He found it extremely hard to hide a smirk. He watched with pride as Severus stormed out of the hall vowing to never let him know that Neville had actually volunteered to do this, if he could at all help it.
The headmaster knew that he couldn't really take responsibility for Severus' loyalty. Frank Longbottom had made him see beyond his own prejudice and Dumbledore could now see that his impartiality had been a sham. The time he had given Sirius Black what amounted to a slap on the wrist for almost getting Severus killed sprang to mind. He shuddered at the thought of never having been given the opportunity to know Severus.
Severus had become like a son over the years; a rather recalcitrant child but a favored one. He liked to think that had Remus not been a factor, he would have expelled Sirius, but he couldn't really be sure. Sirius Black was now dead, killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.
He forced his thoughts away from the past. He had a chance now; there would hopefully be time... time to unite the Houses, to begin healing wounds inflicted over centuries. He took a second to picture all four Houses working together, pooling their resources and working as one unit. The dream brought a smile to his lips.
The old wizard smiled faintly recalling that it had been Severus who had rushed Alice to the hospital. Dumbledore had been shocked at the time, Gryffindor and Slytherin sharing true comradeship. It had been beyond anything he could have ever hoped for. He remembered, as though it had happened yesterday, that Severus had held Alice's hand until Frank had been able to make it to her side. It had been at that moment, Albus realized that his defending Severus had been the best thing he could have done.
He rose to make his usual announcements and noticed that the sixth year Gryffindors were looking around anxiously.
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At the Gryffindor table
Ron looked around the hall. Something didn't feel normal to him, but he couldn't put it into words. It was just a feeling. It felt cleaner, lighter, and, even as the thoughts ran through his head, he felt the rightness of them. A part of him argued with those thoughts because Hogwarts was the safest place in the world; unless one counted possessed professors, and diaries, Basilisks, rigged tournaments…he forced his thoughts to refocus. It wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion one way or another so he let his words fall quietly into the charged atmosphere around them.
"Harry, Mione." His friends looked at him,
Hermione with a questioning look and Harry with the curiosity that more often than not got them into loads of trouble.
"Either of you notice something different?"
It was Hermione who flicked her eyes around the Great Hall.
"Malfoy's not here." Ron felt a dread certainty that Malfoy's absence was the difference.
"Hey," put in Harry suddenly, "wasn't Neville supposed to catch up with us?"
CONCERNED for their friend the trio rose. Moving as silently and normally as they could while trying not to attract attention they left the Great Hall.
They were so focused on trying to look normal that they left their food untouched. They were unaware that their unexpected departure had caught the attention of their entire house. Ron and Harry were known for eating just about everything in sight. They didn't notice the group of Slytherins watching them from across the room. Nor were they aware that others from their house were slowly rising to follow.
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On the train
He concentrated on not crying out. The pain was making it impossible to breathe. He could feel his body arching but Neville swore to himself that he would rather die than give Malfoy the satisfaction of making a single sound. He tightened his grip on the wand in his hand. He focused all of his pain at it, willing the wood to absorb some of his pain.
Draco Malfoy grinned maliciously down at him. "You'll end up just like your parents. A sniveling, drooling wreck and no one will remember you or visit you. They'll speak of you in hushed whispers and my Dark Lord will reward me above all others for demoralizing all who would oppose him. Just think, two generations of Longbottoms gone mad and the venerable old bitch slain at my father's hand."
"Go, to, the lowest level, of..." Neville could barely speak but Malfoy's taunting just drove him into rage unlike any he'd ever known. He felt his wand heating up and wondered in some far off corner of his mind if it would explode. "Hell. You ferret faced, ugly, good for nothing, and blasphemy of all that is pureblood." It had taken all of his strength to say that and Neville vowed that he would ignore whatever else Malfoy attempted to do to him.
"You know how your grandmother died? Answer me you puny, winy, weak-willed Muggle lover!" Draco Malfoy was all but shrieking, spittle flying from his lips to fall on the prone figure at his feet. Then, in an instant of pure abandon, "Magnifus Crucio!"
Neville bit back a cry as the pain grew to unbearable proportions. Of course he knew how his grandmother had died. He had been watching, and for once in his life, he had acted without thinking about being afraid. In an attempt to save his gran, he had used a paralysis curse on Lucius. It hadn't been enough.
"Stupefy, finite Crucio, Petrificus Totalus." In horror, Severus Snape heard Draco magnify the Cruciatus Curse just before he spoke the words to end the spell, as well as, the words that would bind Draco. He made himself calm down before he looked down at the child he had helped bring into the world.
Neville tried to force himself to his feet, at the sound of that voice, and found that he couldn't.
Throughout his years at school, Snape had never abandoned an opportunity to put him down and he feared this would be no exception. He hated the Head of Slytherin House yet, he could see in his mind the precise wand movements that would caste whatever the older man wished and he could admire through his dislike. It was because of that that he would meet Snape on his feet. He did, after all, have some pride. He wasn't sure how he would reach his feet, only that he would, somehow.
"Can you walk, Neville?" Severus didn't have the energy to put scorn into his voice. Nor did he realize that he had used his most incompetent student's first name.
"I'm fine. I'll j..." He blinked back the tears in his eyes as his muscles were still unwilling to work properly. Couldn't he even maintain this little bit of dignity? The thought came on the heels of a wave of despair.
"Stay right where you are until I am ready." With a flick of his wand, Snape had Malfoy floating in the air ahead of him. He then shifted his attention to Neville. Reaching down, Severus helped the unmoving figure to his feet. He watched in amusement as the young man tried to straighten himself. Severus tugged Neville against him and supported him all the way to the carriage awaiting them.
Neville concentrated on not falling apart. It was the least he could do. He looked away from the glare being shot his way by Malfoy and silently counted down from one-hundred.
#Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven.#
Snape was concerned. It wasn't normal for someone who had been under the Cruciatus curse to be so calm and still.
#Ninety-six, ninety-five...#
He knew from personal experience that twitches and emotion swings were the very least of reactions suffered after being exposed to this particular curse. That was why Neville's parents had gone insane. The brain was so overwhelmed by agony that after a certain length of time, the body couldn't separate memory from reality and it just shut down. Medi-wizards were baffled by their inability to mitigate the effects of the curse.
#Eighty, seventy-nine, seventy-eight, seventy-seven...#
The carriage moved smoothly to the school.
"Mr. Longbottom, go to Madam Pomfrey. I will see to Malfoy."
Neville nodded and after exiting the carriage he walked with Snape, until their paths diverged. Then, instead of heading for the hospital wing, he walked up to Gryffindor tower and sat down beside the dozing Fat Lady to wait. Time slipped away from him as he continued his silent count-down.
#Fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three, fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty...#
. He was unaware of the people who came up to the fat lady requesting admittance. He floated as though above himself, and as often happened, his parents were there to greet him but, this time, his gran was also there.
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"Hello, Neville." His dad threw an arm around him and ruffled his hair. Seconds later they were joined by his mother.
"What horrible thing has happened to send you here, now?" His mum's voice fell gently in to the quiet.
"Hmmm?" A tiny sound of acknowledgement was all Neville could bring himself to make.
He felt quite relaxed and was happy just to snuggle in his dad's embrace and not talk about what had happened to him. The silent countdown in his head faded away. They clung together in mid-air for a couple of moments before Neville could bring himself to consider speaking again. Yet before he could, his mother spoke again.
"I know it must have been terrible, but tell us?"
"It was Malfoy. He used the Cruciatus Curse on me."
He was snuggled against his father's side, head resting on a firm, yet comfortable shoulder. His eyes closed so he didn't see the looks of horror exchanged between his parents.
"Are you in the hospital wing, child?" The voice of his gran, demanding and harsh, would have normally made him almost as tongue-tied as did his potions master's. It hit him of a sudden that she was dead. He shrugged, a bit lopsidedly and shook his head.
"Why not?" He winced at the alarm in his mother's tone.
"I couldn't, not in front of Snape." He missed the twitch of his father's lips.
"Oh dear," murmured Frank to the amusement of his wife. Neville was suddenly truly looking at them and became aware of the mirth his father was attempting to hide.
"What?" Neville glared as best he could.
He just didn't have it in him to be fierce. Neville's behavior was more closely associated to a Hufflepuff than a Gryffindor. He tended to work harder than anyone else around him and once his loyalty was given, it was all but impossible to lose. He had a gentle spirit and was slow to anger. Yet, at his core, there lay a bravery found only in Gryffindor House. He was stubborn and determined and in crises there was no one who could react better than he.
"Oh, nothing, sunshine. It's just that Severus has been alone too long and too often so he's just very bad at socializing."
Neville burst into laughter. "I'm bad at socializing. Snape's just, just a horrid old git!"
With a start, he realized that the lethargy the curse had left him in was gone. He slowly pulled out of his father's embrace and went to his mother. He sat next to her and cuddled a moment before turning once more to his father as the older man began to speak.
"I suppose you would think so, and with good reason. Sev doesn't have much use for those not good at potions."
"Or for those in my House?"
A faint grin flickered over Frank's face. "Or for those in our house."
Neville started to feel a tug towards his body and looked a bit panicked. He fought as he had rarely fought before.
"NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
He felt another pair of arms wrap around him.
"Shh! Shh. It's not your time. Shh!"
"I don't want to go back."
"You have to." His father spoke firmly.
"Look, Neville." It was his gran's sharp tone, yet there was a softness to it that had rarely been directed at him.
An image formed before him. He saw himself surrounded by his Housemates; Hermione and Ginny were crying; Harry and Ron wore guilty expressions; Dean and Seamus looked shocked; some of the others were ringing their hands; then he saw from a distance the Creevy brothers running towards the chaotic scene and still no adults came. Suddenly, there was a displacement in the air and Madam Pomfrey, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape were there.
Neville looked bemused at the last figure shaking his head.
"Do you find that surprising?" His mum's gentle tone.
"Yes, shouldn't I?"
"Perhaps, but listen."
Sound was added to the scene he was witnessing. "What happened here??, the medi-witch asked in alarm.
"Did the boy not come to you, Poppy?!?, exclaimed Snape in a tone that was filled with concern Neville had never heard before.
"Why should the boy have come to me?"
"He was put under the Cruciatus Curse for an indefinite period of time."
Neville saw her blanch. Things appeared to be moving in slow motion. The usually brisk medi-witch was just standing there, eyes wide, expression an equal mix of shock and horror. As the adults spoke, the students were babbling incoherently and some of them were trying to push forward to see.
Then, everything began happening at once. A stretcher appeared and his body was gently lifted onto it. Snape conjured bottles out of nowhere and started trying to make his limp form consume them.
"Come on, come on, and drink."
Neville heard Ron mumble something about Snape and points, and how Neville was probably driven to want to die because of tyranny, but Neville's world was slowly going black. He heard McGonagall ushering everyone into the common room. He faintly heard his mum crying, and his dad and gran comforting her, murmuring about things working out, and then he knew no more.
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Slytherin common room
Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were sitting in the Slytherin common room. Their heads were close together and they spoke in whispers.
"Do you think he was caught?"
"What would he do, Greg? One of the Unforgivables?"
"I just keep hoping he won't show up, Vince."
The two young men sat in an embrace that allowed them a semblance of privacy. In their rare moments alone, they found a great deal of humor in the fact that the entire school thought them a couple. They had experimented with one another but quickly decided they made better friends.
"Did you see the way the Gryffindors were acting tonight?" Vincent looked into his friend's eyes and nodded.
"We should go see."
"I need to finish some of my work for class. Will you let me know what's going on?" Greg leaned into his friend and dropped a light kiss on Vince's ear. A soft chuckle greeted the gesture.
"Yes, yes, I'll watch your redhead for you." And Vince watched sadly as his friend's face went blank. He quietly and fiercely cursed their families, the Malfoy's, Slytherin and anything else that came to mind. It angered him to see Greg so upset. This House rivalry was insane. He was sure that Salazar
Slytherin had not been so unreasonable as to hate all Gryffindors.
"Hey, Greg! Greg?" The other boy focused on him. "If Malfoy really is gone, and not just making a statement of some kind, things will change."
"I'll die first," Gregory Goyle spoke with a rarely heard fierceness, "Vince, I will never serve Voldimort," The last word was an angry hiss. Vincent wished that he could be as true as his friend because he was unsure of his path without Greg to keep him on it.
Looping his arms around Greg, Vincent Crabbe led him up to the boy's dorm and slid into bed with him. It was very easy to snuggle in his friend's arms and trail kisses along his cheek and jaw. It was something he often did. He was sure after two weeks with his parents, Greg would need all the affection he could get.
Vincent found himself watching as the eyes flickered closed. He was certain his friend would eventually wake up and complete his work; he always did, after all.
When he was certain it was as quiet as it would get, he called pillows to them and arranged them in mid-air to look like there were two people in the bed. Vincent slipped out and slid the mass of pillows in his friend's arms in his place.
Seeing no one, he reached into his friend's trunk and took out his invisibility cloak. Sliding into the cloak, he quietly made his way down to the common room.
He glared at Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini for being in his way. Couldn't they find another place to grope one another at? Now he'd have to wait until they went upstairs to go on his mission. Stealthily, he moved into the corner furthest away from them. As their conversation began to penetrate his thoughts, it almost made him run back upstairs. It was only the knowledge that he didn't dare be caught that kept him in place.
"Crabbe and Goyle are becoming liabilities, Blaise." The feminine voice was a rich alto. Most would find it pleasant but if one listened close enough they would hear the menace it held.
"They shouldn't be a problem much longer. Well," amended Blaise, "At least that moron Goyle won't be one for much longer."
"Oh," Pansy purred.
Vincent watched in fascination as her hands began to move over his body. He'd never been with a girl. He had always known where his preferences lay.
"I have my orders. He's to be eliminated."
"Is that right." She kissed him.
Vincent looked away his mind churning furiously over what he had just heard. Greg and he would have to be especially careful. After seeing them, he had expected to have to wait a while before leaving, but his chance came unexpectedly.
The portrait guarding the common room swung open and Slytherin's Head of House entered. Vincent just managed to squeeze out through the portrait opening before it closed. As it did, he saw his Head of House, and the look he wore frightened Vincent though not many things could.
***
The halls of Hogwarts were deserted. That felt wrong to Vincent. There should always be people wandering the halls. He knew, as he was sure the teachers did, that there was always someone willing to break the rules.
He walked in the direction he believed Gryffindor tower to be and then reached for the nearest stable thing to hold on to as the floor seemed to wrench itself out of its current position and shift. Vincent found himself in another section of the dungeons. As he walked, he looked for any doors that might lead to stairways. The walk appeared to take forever and when Vincent finally saw a likely looking doorway, he opened it and stared. He found himself looking at two very life-like images of Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor.
He was not a particularly powerful wizard. He wasn't really sure why he had been accepted by Hogwarts, but even he felt the power in this room. It was oppressive. He wondered if he could reach out and touch it. He didn't think of his next action, he simply did it. Reaching out a hand, he placed it on the Statue of Salazar Slytherin and he felt as though he were being turned inside out. When he again became aware, he was somewhere else.
990 AD
The wine flowed freely and the two friends were holding each other up. "Godric, we should get out of here. I'm hot. It's stuffy with all these bodies in one place."
"Whatever you say, Salazar."
"What do you think the old bastards will say?"
"I don't know. Just for this once, let's not care."
Arm in arm, the two wizards staggered out of the stuffy building. They walked, the crisp night air dissipating some of the haze obscuring their thoughts.
"Salazar, you're so lovely. Sometimes, I just sit and look at you and my thoughts scatter to the winds."
They walked until they reached a tree and leaned against it. Salazar watched in trepidation as Godric faced him. He needed to stop whatever the other man was up to.
"Godric!" He was stunned at how breathy his voice sounded.
"You should hear yourself the way I do. I don't understand what you're going on about half of the time. Your voice is like the night. It pours over me and I become lost in its splendor."
Salazar's breathing was quickening. "No, don't! Please! I can't!"
"You can! I know that you can! Don't fear, my precious one." And Godric pressed a light kiss upon Salazar's lips. Slow and sweet, teasing and playful.
Salazar felt Godric's tongue press forward into his mouth. It felt an eternity to him while Godric explored. Salazar found his arms were around Godric's waist, unsure how they had made their way there. He was leaning completely against the other. He had no will, no strength left, only need, a clawing desperate hunger that only Godric could quench.
1997
Vincent Crabbe staggered, as the vision released him. "Oh Merlin! What the bloody hell was that?" He was certain that Greg would know, or at least know where they could find out.
He turned to the door, fumbled it open and, making his way out of the room slammed it shut behind him. His rapid exit prevented him from seeing the statue he had touched twitch. For a brief second, the marbol flickered to plient skin.
Vincent forgot about going to spy on the Gryffindors and ran back to the Slytherin dorms. He slid in beside Gregory, dislodging the pillows. "Ron." The quiet murmur tugged at his heart.
Vincent wasn't sure how Greg managed to stay so gentle considering what his parents put him through. Vincent was positive that it was his association with Greg that allowed him to remain slightly human.
People, even those from their house, thought them stupid, and Greg more so. They did nothing to change that opinion especially with Malfoy to appease. The truth was that Greg lived in his head. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. Greg was slower than even Longbottom, but Vincent attributed that to the hexes and curses that Greg's father used on him. Vincent had vowed to protect the other boy and had done so to the best of his ability.
The Weasley thing, as he liked to call it, had started in fourth year. Potter and Weasley hadn't been speaking. Weasley, Vincent remembered, had taken to wandering the castle. The redhead had been walking, not looking where he was going and he had plowed into Greg. They had gone down in a pile of arms and legs. It had been damned funny. Weasley had flushed to the tips of his ears and stammered an apology.
The library books Greg had been smuggling had flown everywhere. Weasley, still stammering and blushing had attempted to untangle himself. Greg had finally just stood up, the redhead clutched in his arms. Greg had released Weasley and the two had stared at one another until the redhead had looked down. The mental image still brought a grin to Vincent's lips. Then apparently noticing the books, Weasley had scooped them all up and held them out, a charming gentle smile on his lips. Then changing his mind, he had pulled his wand out and whispered a shrinking spell. Vincent had felt the change in the air and knew things would never be the same again. Vincent would swear under veritaserum that Ronald Weasley had been completely unaware of who he had helped. He was sure, had the redhead known, the curses would have flown fast and furious. With an absent-minded wave, the redhead had vanished and his friend had stared after him with the saddest look that Vincent was sure he would ever see. It was the look of one who had seen his dream and had it snatched away.
"Vince?" The sleepy mutter made him grin even as he responded.
"Who else?"
"Professor Snape was looking for you. Wanted to see where we all were. He said you weren't in the castle."
"Come to the common room with me. I have some things to tell you." He kept his tone even, calm and gentle, but his blood ran cold. He hadn't been in the castle and their housemates were out to get them! He forced the panic away.
"We need to talk."